Winter Dreams

by Simmons, Trana Mae

  "Is that what you came out here to tell me? To make sure I never let anything like this happen again between us?"

  "No," she said, and her heart wrenched when Sandy took a hopeful step toward her. She backed away a step. "No," she said more firmly, knowing she had to make sure he understood her double meaning. "It can't ever happen again, but I'm not blaming you alone. We both have to make sure it doesn't happen again. I . . . I love David. I won't betray his trust."

  "Maybe you ought to spend more time with David then, instead of so damned much time with me!"

  "I'm not spending the time necessarily with you," she said as logically as she could manage. A corner of her mind called her a liar, but she ignored it. She had pleaded tiredness or being busy several times recently when David wanted her to do something with him. "I'm spending the time with my trainer and working towards the goal I've set myself. After that, I'll finalize all my plans with David."

  "Then what the hell did you follow me out here to talk about? You haven't said one thing I don't already know."

  She'd forgotten her coat, and she shivered in the cold and wrapped her arms around herself. "I just felt that what happened inside should be discussed." She tried to bite back the next words, but they escaped anyway, in a low voice. "Deserved to be discussed."

  "No more than your discussing what stud should cover what bitch in your breeding program," Sandy snarled. "The two of us should never be paired — on paper or in reality."

  Laura gasped with a pain so deep it nearly dropped her to her knees. "You . . . you bastard!" She tried to throw the words in his face, but they came out barely above a whisper.

  "Remember what you think of me from now on," Sandy said. "As soon as both of our dogs are back on their feet, we need to do those overnight training sessions I told you about. Your feelings toward me will keep you on your own side of the campfire."

  Pulling herself together, she glared at him, even dropping her arms and relinquishing their scant protection against the bitter cold. "Don't schedule anything from the middle of December through the first of January. I'm spending the Christmas season with friends in Duluth, doing some shopping for my trousseau!"

  "Yes, boss."

  The instant he stalked away from her, Laura ran back to the kennel. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of dismissing her, instead of the other way around. She shoved the door open and plunged through, closed it and leaned back against it, fighting tears she told herself were from the acrid anger filling her senses.

  She should fire him. But that would mean explaining to her father, and eventually to David, her reasons for doing so. It would mean forgetting about the Alaskan race, not only for this year but for the rest of her life. It would mean forgetting about her plans for the kennel — the wonderful boost having won the Alaskan race would give the reputation of her dogs.

  She could be content being David's wife and the mother of their children. If she had to, she would make herself be content with only that in her life. However, it would be much more satisfying to also have her kennel and the dogs it produced recognized as notable.

  No more than your discussing what stud should cover what bitch in your breeding program. The two of us should never be paired — on paper or in reality.

  Sandy's voice filled her mind again, and she swiped away the tears in her eyes. Damn him! He hadn't acted like she was just a convenient bitch in heat when he said her name in that voice filled with the wonder of the feelings between them.

  She frowned in concentration, replaying the rest of their conversation in her mind. He'd snarled at her. Did everything he could to counteract what had happened between them. To make her despise him. To make her keep her distance?

  He'd never said what he thought of her. What his true feelings were. He hadn't kissed her like a man who wanted her to keep her distance.

  But he was right. They needed to keep the barriers up between them. She should feel totally ashamed of her actions in his arms. Why, if she ever stuck her tongue in David's mouth, he would probably spit it out as though he'd inadvertently found a bone in his piece of lake trout!

  So why didn't she feel ashamed? Why did it hurt so bad to think of keeping those barriers up? To think of never being in Sandy's arms again?

  To recall the snarling words he threw at her? To know — to know that his words were a defense against his own feelings.

  She stumbled over to Blancheur. He slept peacefully, and Laura crept onto the cot. After pulling the goosedown comforter over her, she realized the lantern in the office was still burning. The remains of their interrupted meal were also still sitting there, a grim reminder of why neither of them had eaten even one bite.

  She had enjoyed that one tiny dab of pie, she thought with a wry smile as her eyes closed. But it was just a prelude to the delicious feast to her senses an instant later.

  #

  Crawling up to full consciousness through lingering threads of a disturbing dream, Laura woke the next morning as Pete came in the door. Damp tear tracks streaked her cheeks, left behind from the dream.

  "Hey, sleepyhead," Pete called. "What are you doing lollygagging in bed? Erik's already pulling up outside to check the dogs."

  A puff of her breath frosted in the cold air. "That's too bad." Laura snuggled beneath the comforter and surreptitiously wiped the hem on her cheeks. "You build up that fire over there and I'll get up. You spent the night in a nice warm bed with your wife, while I tried to catch what sleep I could on this lumpy cot."

  Pete glanced in the office door as he grabbed some wood from the wood box. "Looks like you had some company here, too."

  Laura's face flushed. "Sandy came out to check on Blancheur. He thought I might be hungry."

  "Doesn't look like you ate much."

  "I thought you said Erik was coming," she said to change the subject. "Maybe he went to see Keever first. I think I'll get on up and go inside to bathe." She threw back the comforter and checked on Blancheur. "Blancheur's awake, so keep an eye on him, will you?"

  "Sure." Pete closed the stove door, and Laura hurried over to grab her cloak and throw it around her before she went out in the cold. "Uh . . ." Pete said.

  "What?" She paused with her hand on the doorknob.

  "I don't have to clean up the squished pie on the floor in there, do I? Looks like Sandy's footprint in that mess."

  "Whatever. Or whoever." She waved a negligent hand and hurried through the door, barreling straight into Sandy. She knew who it was even before she glanced up. She knew those hands reaching out to steady her — those muscles on the firm chest under her palms — the scent of male and woods and cedar soap she associated with him.

  "Whoa," he said. "It's too early in the morning to be rushing about so fast."

  She stepped back, barely keeping her mouth from dropping in astonishment. His voice was calm and in control, with nary a sign of the turmoil they'd gone through a few hours before. Over his shoulder she saw Erik, the taller of the two men, and focused her attention on him. Two could play this nothing-happened game!

  "Have you already looked at Keever?"

  "He's fine," Erik replied. "Just needs a couple more days out of harness to mend completely. But it's going to take Blancheur longer than that."

  "I'm sure it will, and I want him completely healed before he hits the trail again."

  "We'll have to talk about that," Sandy put in as Erik pushed on past her and went into the kennels.

  She tossed Sandy a surprised look. "What do you mean? He doesn't need to be on the trail again until there's no chance he'll reopen those wounds. I can use one of the other dogs for lead for a while."

  Sandy shook his head. "That dog has a lead dog's heart, like Keever does. He needs to be back on the trail as soon as possible, even if it's only for easy runs. If he sees you heading out of here with another dog in his place, it could do two things to him — break his spirit for good or make him harder than hell to handle once we do put him back in harness."

  He p
aused, then continued, "Males are funny that way. They want there to be only room for one of them in their owners' hearts."

  Laura's own heart plunged to her toes, and her stomach twisted. She caught his double meaning — caught it well. When she flicked her eyes at his face, his gaze skittered away. "Then we'll have a break for a few days," she said. "I can spend some time with my father. And David."

  His indrawn breath let her know her jab hit him somewhere in retaliation for the hurt he unloaded on her during their moonlit quarrel. Why then, didn't she feel a sense of sweet revenge as she hastened toward the house?

  Sandy went on inside the kennel, straight to Blancheur in order to determine for himself how serious the dog's injuries looked this morning. Erik was still examining the dog, and Sandy sat on the cot, instantly aware of his mistake when Laura's scent rose around him. Even some of her warmth lingered in the comforter, stealing into the back of his thighs with fingers of sensation as light as her dainty hands. Yet he'd seen the deceptive strength of those hands, and these sensations cut through him with the same force.

  Jumping to his feet would call too much attention to his discomfort, so he gritted his teeth, trying to concentrate on what Erik was saying.

  "I would think about two weeks before you can use him at full muscle again, Sandy. He'll definitely be in shape by the middle of January for the Northshore Race, though."

  "Laura told me she's going to be in Duluth for two weeks over Christmas, but I can ask Pete or Buck to drive her team while we train. I want both of these teams in tip top shape for the Northshore."

  "It's true? You're planning on running in that race too, huh? There's been a lot of speculation about whether you'd just concentrate on Laura's team or give her some competition yourself."

  "Laura's team isn't the only one around here that has a good chance of winning the race. I've been making inquiries, and a couple of the Thunder Bay teams I've heard about sound excellent. For that matter, as scroungy as that Buck is, his team's a fine looking bunch of animals."

  Erik laughed and shook his head. "Yeah, I will say one thing for Buck. He likes his booze, but if it came to a choice between needing to pay me to look at one of his dogs or buy a bottle, he'd wait on the bottle. That day he didn't take care of Laura's dogs properly was a mistake, and I think Buck would've rather died of thirst himself than let that happen to the dogs he was responsible for. I've seen him drinking since then, but never falling down drunk like before."

  "Long as it taught him a lesson. People make mistakes. The main thing is to learn from them and go on."

  "I agree with you there." Erik rose to his feet. "Well, you've got everything you need here to take care of both of these dogs. And plenty of help, with both Pete here and Buck coming in part time. I've got to go look at my sister's cat."

  "Her cat?"

  "Yeah, and let me tell you, that animal despises the ground I walk on. It hisses and arches its back every time I walk through the door!"

  "Probably because it smells dogs all over you most of the time," Sandy said with a chuckle.

  "Yeah, that's what my sister says. But I don't have time to go home and take a bath every time before I see that cat. Sis gets hold of me if the animal leaves one tiny bite of food in its bowl. Figures there's something wrong with it."

  "People are like that with their animals sometimes."

  "Yeah, and Sis is an old maid. Her fiancé went down on one of the ships in the lake, and she's never looked at another man, not that a lot haven't come courting. She has Hermie, and says that's all she needs."

  "Hermie?" Sandy asked with an arched eyebrow.

  "Her fiancé’s name was Herman." He grabbed his fur-flap hat from the end of the cot and picked up his supply bag. "I better go look at Hermie before she gets hold of the police and has them out looking for me — tells them it's a family emergency. She did that once, when I didn't come check on Hermie as quick as she thought I should."

  Erik paused at the door. "You know, I haven't had the nerve to tell her Hermie is a female. I hope Hermie doesn't get out some day and come back in the family way."

  Shaking his head, Erik went through the door. At last Sandy could get off that damned cot and move away from it. Still Laura's presence lingered in every inch of the building. An old jacket she sometimes wore hung on a peg inside the door. A shelf in the supply cabinet, where someone had left a door open, held the trousers and shirts she preferred when she worked around the dogs. He recalled Katie saying once with a sniff of disgust that she would iron those clothes for Laura, but not put them away in Laura's room. They compromised on leaving them out in the kennel.

  He could imagine her the strongest in the office, where Pete sat hunched over the books. He hadn't slept another wink after he left here last night. He'd relived each and every second of the time he held her in his arms — each and every touch of her and his every sensation in response.

  Each and every word of their quarrel afterwards, and each and every lie he'd forced out of his mouth. Even the lewd insinuations he barked out in an attempt to anger her so she would back away from him. Hate him. Keep her distance so he couldn't touch her — kiss her — drown in her essence. The essence of Laura, the beautiful, caring, bubbling, womanly person he would give almost anything to have for his own.

  Almost anything, except his sense of respect for himself.

  He wondered what it would be like to know that a woman loved him like Erik's sister loved her dead fiancé. Loved him so much it was impossible for her to even think of allowing another man into her life. That she would rather spend her life alone after his death.

  He and Colleen had shared a deep love, a comfortable love. But had he become lost in one of the killer blizzards in Alaska during a race, or died some other way, Colleen would no doubt have married again. After a proper mourning period, he hoped, but he couldn't imagine her pining away for him for the rest of her life. She'd been raised to be a wife to a man. Instead, she had died and left Sandy and Tracie to go on with their lives.

  On the other hand, Laura's indulgent father had obviously given his daughter a huge measure of independence. She chose other interests in life than flirting and attracting a man for a potential husband. A father to a brood of children.

  The potential husband and father had come into her life anyway and remained firmly implanted. She loved David Hudson. Had told Sandy so. She'd come running after him last night with one purpose in mind — to tell him their shared passion had been a huge mistake. To get his agreement it would never happen again.

  It wouldn't. He might be considered a criminal on the run by the Alaskan authorities, but he wasn't a criminal in his own mind. He'd done what he had to in order to keep the daughter he loved with all his heart by his side.

  And he wasn't a thief. He wouldn't attempt to steal another man's woman. Fate, assisted by his father- and mother-in-law, had stolen a hell of a lot from him, but he still had his honor.

  ***

  Chapter 9

  A week later Laura paused at the door to Sandy's cabin and watched Sandy and Pete mush up the trail leading away from Ladyslipper Landing. Blancheur had been replaced with Snowstorm, one of his own pups, now two years old. Snowstorm looked so much like his sire, Laura's heart ached with yearning. But she glanced over her shoulder at the doghouses on the far side of the yard, where Erik had told her to start tying Blancheur out for a few hours each day. Her true lead dog stood there, his head swiveling from her to the disappearing team. As usual, she had to admit Sandy was right. Had it been her instead of Pete on the sled runners, Blancheur would probably tug frantically on his chain, risking opening his wounds again.

  She turned back and knocked on the door. Tracie opened it immediately.

  "Hi, Miss Laura. I'm ready. All's I gotta do is put on my coat."

  Cristy carried Tracie's coat over. As she knelt to help the little girl put it on, she said to Laura, "Are you sure you don't mind taking her with you? It's no imposition?"

  "Good heav
ens, no," Laura denied. "I have to keep my legs in shape, so I won't loose all Sandy's training. When Blancheur's ready to hit the trail again, I need to be able to keep up with him. The best way I can make sure of that is to walk every day. Blancheur won't get upset if he sees me walking out of the yard — just if he sees me with other dogs, leaving him behind. I'm delighted Tracie wants to come along and keep me company."

  "Where are you headed today?"

  "Into town. I know it's a long way, but if Tracie gets tired, we'll stop and rest. The temperatures are rather mild today, and I don't think we'll have any trouble. We'll eat lunch there and ride back with Father this evening, so don't look for us until then."

  "Aunt Cristy?" Tracie asked.

  "What, darling?"

  "You think I could take my money with me? Miss Laura could help me do my Christmas shopping."

  "I'd love to do that," Laura said before Cristy could protest it might be another imposition. "I love shopping, and I haven't had much time to do that lately, what with the training schedule Sandy's had me under. I'm glad you reminded me Christmas is coming up so soon, Tracie. I can get a start on the presents I need, also."

  Cristy smiled tolerantly in agreement, then left them for a moment. When she returned, she handed Tracie a small child's purse. "Your money's in here, darling. You won't lose it, will you?"

  "I won't, Aunt Cristy." Tracie hung the strap around her neck and patted the purse. "See? It fits right there."

  Laura held out her hand. "If you're ready, so am I."

  Tracie took her hand and nodded emphatically, and Cristy gave Laura a knit cap and tiny shawl. "It's nice out right now, but she might need this on the way back. Her mittens are in her other pocket."

  A few moments later, Laura and Tracie headed down the trail toward Grand Marais. Her father, Buck, Pete and other people visiting Ladyslipper Landing traveled the trail daily, either on horseback or sleighs, leaving it firm and easy to walk upon. She and Tracie made good time, but she kept their pace just below brisk, not wanting to tire the little girl.